Blurring the Lines
by MonPetitCoeur
Summary: Kurt was gay. Blaine was gay. And they were very much in love with each other. They were also fictional. Chris is gay. But Darren isn't. They were co-workers, nothing more. But Chris finds himself attracted to him. This was reality.
1. Admittance is the first step

**Title:** Blurring the Lines

**Pairing:** Darren/Chris

**Rating: M**

**Summary:** Kurt was gay. Blaine was gay. And they were very much in love with each other. They were also fictional. Chris is gay. But Darren isn't. They were co-workers, nothing more. But Chris finds himself attracted to him. This was reality.

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><p>Oh, hello everybody.<p>

As you all know, I'm Chris Colfer. But that's somewhat of my real name anyway. Of course, I'm not going to tell you that my real name is Christopher Paul Colfer. And I'm not going to tell you that I am officially a twenty-year old guy, who hails from California. Well, I'm not exactly a guy. Okay, maybe I am considering that I'm far too hairy to pass for a female and I have a flat chest and I have uuh...I have that "thing" down there. And that I can't get pregnant no matter how hard I try—_WHICH_ I would NOT know since...I haven't tried trying it at all—if you catch my drift—and I could not produce milk. Ever.

But I am _gay_.

And I'm very much so out and proud about it. Considering that I'm an actor.

Surprised? I am too, at times. Considering how famous GLEE has gotten, and how long it has become (we're in Season 3 now). Glee? Yup. I play Kurt Hummel there. You know that kid with the weird eye color, an impeccable taste for fashion, and the one with an unusually high-pitched voice? That's me. And if you were wondering what I look like when I don't play that sarcastic, adorable countertenor, you could google me. Just type in _'Chris Colfer'._ And when you see a haggard, tired-looking, pale, and totally casual person usually posed as if doing something in the middle of an action—that would probably be me.

Basically, most of you would prolly know one-third of my life, and by one-third that would already mean a LOT. I mean, I babble and s-stutter a lot as I reminisce my past when I do interviews, talk shows, and magazine covers. And I mean that's kind of okay for me, since they only bother to ask about my life so far ever since it has skyrocketed to success with GLEE, my awards (not that I boast about it though. I can't actually still believe I won something), my relationship with my co-stars, my sexuality, my knack of awesomeness with sai swords, and the bullying that I experience when I was younger and all throughout high school.

Playing the role of an out-and-proud student from a public school who is often bullied and rejected has somewhat caught the attention of the LGBT community—in a good way, of course. After that, loads of fan mail came crashing in about how I helped them come out of the closet, or be brave enough to face every day by firstly accepting and loving their selves for who they were.

I mean, I'm happy and all that for them. And as much as I keep on saying that high school was a complete nightmare for me—what with the bullying because of my high voice (the gay part came later on) and about my non-believing teachers and whatnot, it all made me a better person—it made me stronger. There were times when all I wanted to do was just stay home and cry about it. But I figured that hey, the world was not going to change by itself.

I learned that the real world was vicious. And that probably all those fairy tales and Disney movies that I grew up with totally brainwashed me into believing that everybody always got their happy endings. But on the other hand, I think some people would. You know? But maybe they would get the taste of happiness after a hacking blood and tears match with our enemy called _"Reality."_

It's too soon to say what my ending would be like though. All I could tell is that the process of going there is already totally awesome. And I figured that I shouldn't—I shouldn't have—you know, shouldn't have any distractions. At least, not when everything is a big heck of a mess.

The upside is that I'm done filming my latest movie_—" Struck by Lightning"_. And there were promotions and interviews and photo shoots and advertisements. And there was GLEE. And there was also the script that he was going to write—for Disney (Ha! Darren totally flipped when he found that out).

Darren...

I sighed as I exited a window full of websites about him. Were you wondering who Darren Criss is? He's the guy who plays Blaine Anderson. You know, the _'vertically challenged'_ guy with amazing breath-taking butter melting pair of golden hazel eyes and black silky curls hidden under a truckload worth of gel. And you know what else? He has this voice—oh my god, his voice—it's—it's—it's something you would never get tired of, even if you have heard it for a billion times. When he's singing, I mean, he sounds so good. You could probably make him sing the Sesame Street theme song or something from Air Supply and still, you'd fall in love with him.

Not that it happened to me.

Not that I'm actually in love with him.

Pfft. That's impossible. I mean, even though the fans would probably flip when they find out that _'CrissColfer'_ (yes, I see that across the internet all the time) is actually plausible, and that Blaine and Kurt or Chris and Darren—either way, on and off screen, we're together-together.

Well, let's just say, hypothetically, I did fall in love with him, even if it's just a crush and I thought he was sorta kind of cute when I watched AVPM for the very first time, which I tell you people, you should really watch...I mean...Wouldn't people kind of call me desperate or just say that I'm having a case of _'character bleed'_? Wherein I just got a tad bit into my character? Again, not that I care and all but...Well, what about him? What would Darren think of it then? The fan fictions were bad enough. The speculations and the rumors flying around were getting a bit too much too. Not that I don't understand the fans, I was once there—writing fan fictions of imaginary adventures of the Ninja Turtles and whatnot.

My cellphone rang, snapping me out of my reverie.

Geeze, I was supposed to be writing another chapter of my book.

"Hello? Chris Colfer here."

_'Chris?_' - Oh, it was Ryan. I wonder what he wants. Is it about Season 3?

"Ryan", I greeted him with some enthusiasm, I hadn't gotten in touch with him that much because of our work schedules. "To what do I owe this pleasure of talking to you again?"

A delighted laugh vibrated from the other line_. 'I know you're busy and all. But I just want to remind you that we'll have readings tomorrow. We need to rehearse your scene with Darren in the fourth episode.'_

"Wait, wait. I thought we were free until next week because he's in New York doing Imogene?"

_'I thought so too. But his agent called and apparently, there was a conflict with his schedule, and now he has to go back and forth for the next week. He has that thing with his previous production too—Starkid something.'_

I bit my lip from squealing when he mentioned the last part. I thought that it was only a rumor, but Starkid itself tweeted that yes, there would be a third installment of their very awesome parody of Harry Potter. Oh my god, I seriously cannot wait. But isn't it kind of embarrassing to hassle the juicy bits out of your co-star about it? Gosh, I'm such a nerd.

"Oooh", I drawled out, "So he's coming back tomorrow?"

_'Yeah that's about it. Listen, I need to go. But let's catch up tomorrow? We'll have coffee before we rehearse. I need to ask you a few other things too.'_

"Okay, okay. What time do you need me?"

_'Rehearsals start at ten. But I want you here at around seven. Got it? Goodnight Chris!'_

"Goodnight Ryan!" With a sigh, I rubbed my temples. Damn, I felt a headache coming in.

Deciding that it was time for me to hit the sack since I have an early morning tomorrow, I shut off my laptop and went to the bathroom to do my nightly rituals—bath, toothbrush, and a change of clothes. After double checking the locks of my flat, I slipped in under the covers and opened the bedside lamp, figuring I need something to lull me to sleep.

So I settled in with Frank Beddor's Looking Glass Wars—it's a really cool book. Basically, Alice in Wonderland crosses Braveheart kind of book.

I was already in the part wherein the cat transformed to the Cat, an assassin with nine lives, when I felt my iPhone vibrate, signaling me of a message. Without tearing my gaze from the book, I reached for it and absentmindedly unlocked it.

_'Rehearsals at 10? Wanna grab bfast at around 8?'_ –I snickered at his text speak. Clearly, he was messing with me.

_'Can't. :( Morning date with Ryan at seven.'_ – I replied, grinning all the while.

He typed in a moment later. _'What? U chose Ryan over me? /3'_

Rolling my eyes, I quickly texted back. _'Maybe. ;) He is COOLER than you.'_

_'Puh-leeze. I'm Harry freakin' Potter.'_ – That conceited guy! I laughed. But then, I didn't know what to reply next. Geeze, what was wrong with me? He just quoted AVPM at me and I blank out? Oh gosh, I'm so pathetic.

_'Would you reconsider if I say I bought something 4 u frm NY? :)'_

My stomach flipped a little. Whoa, did I eat something bad?

_'Depends. :P'_

_'Say, the Statue of Liberty? ;)'_

I snorted_. 'I can do lunch. :p I still want that Statue, D.'_

Oh my god, what was I doing? Am I flirting with him? No, no. That—I—It's not _'flirting'. _He knew I wasn't interested in him, and vice versa. I was just...fooling around with him, as what would friends do. Normal friends.

_'Hoorah!'_ I chuckled as I imagined him actually saying that,_ 'Lunch then. And your souvenir. G'night CC.:D'_

_'Goodnight DC. :' _

With a grunt, I laid on my pillow with a loud 'PLOMP!' Oh crap, crap, crap. Great! Just what I needed. Great, just—damn.

Closing my eyes, I waited till the burning of my cheeks and the nauseous churning in my stomach faded away. Why? Why did you ask why was I feeling that way? Cheer all you want fan girls, and fan boys. But this did not certainly bode well for me.

For starters, yes, Kurt was gay. Blaine was gay. They were in love with each other. Heck, they were in a _'honeymoon phase'_, as Blaine would put it. And yes, they were fictional characters.

The problem was, I am gay—not the sexuality itself was a problem though. And...

Darren isn't.

He may seem all kind of...not-straight, since he's a basic goofball. An adorable dorky goofball. But as what he usually jokes with his friends, he comes out as he _'straight' _to them. So point is, he's straight in real life. And I'm not.

He was just my co-star. And let's face reality, I'm not exactly looking for the same cliché teenage love story as one would possibly ask for, but I know one thing's for sure. I do not want to ruin our friendship with this—this emotion. It's just...Over the few crushes I've had all my life, Darren was the only...close-to-reality one.

I am in love with Darren Criss.

And this was all so real. Too real.

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><p><strong>AN: I do not usually write RPF. Real life ones. Whatever they're called. Well, I kind of did, but that was when I was over the Jrock fandom. But even then I wrote RL ones, I always ended them as fluffy or so. I kind of feel bad about this. But as I've said, I'll play this as realistically as possible. Not to the point of dictating their whole lives, just a little fanon about the possibilities if that ever really happened. *sighs***

**Review? Tell me if I should go and shoot myself for this fic or not. :/**

**I feel guilty. Send me some virtual cookies and some hug.**


	2. Ignorance is the key

**ME NO GUSTA. :(**

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><p>Chris Colfer here.<p>

So yeah, today's the day that I would go over Ryan's office and read with him the new scripts that came up with and voice my concerns or opinions (if there was any), or if we're offended by the actual stuffs that we would be doing...Or offend our _viewers_, rather. Whatever! Let me try again. Today's the day wherein I'd go over the script readings with Ryan and Blaine.

Crap. _Darren._ What I meant to say was, _'Darren'_.

Supermegaawesomefoxyhot Darren Everett Criss...

...Yes, you've read that right, fan girls. You aren't the only ones capable of Google-ing a person. But...It's not enough to be actually considered as _'stalking'_, right? Oh dear goodness, no! The poor guy already has his plate full with his crazy obsessed estrogen-filled fan girls, his psychotic stalkers, his haters, and the amazing teens who worship him just because he plays the part of a courageous, delicious—_witty!_ I meant witty! And totally adorable dapper, not to mention homosexual, Blaine Anderson.

He didn't need another creepy high-pitched babble mouth lunatic like me. His co-worker. His colleague. His freaking _friend!_

Who by the way, was head-over-heels forbidden Romeo-and-Juliet style type of taboo love over him and yet, said person was denying his feelings and instead, pretends that what happens on-screen _'stays' _on-screen.

I woke up at around five. The tossing and turnings I experienced last night were enough proof that my damned body refused to actually listen to me and rebelled against my will! Seriously, I for one doubted if I was possessed by an evil entity or a demon or a _'fourth kind'_ type of alien...Okay Chris, we seriously need to stop the weekly horror flicks with Darren, Chord, Mark, and Kevin.

Since there was more than hour to spare, I turned on my laptop again in hopes of continuing an extra chapter or more so I could leave my weekend vacant and actually do something with my life (like say, go out on a movie date with Amber, or take my little sister to an amusement park or something). After bribing myself with two cups of coffee and a Starbucks bagel, I finally relented to my own commands.

Okay, things were quiet for a while.

That until, my phone vibrated. Curiously, I readjusted my reading glasses and checked it.

_**G'morning sunshine! ;) –D. **_

I smiled. That was odd. Darren usually woke up thirty minutes before an actual meeting. Or an hour, if the meeting was important enough.

_**Morning hobbit! :D Why you up so early? :/—C.**_

Darren composed a reply and at the same time, gave me enough time to enjoy my bagel, and to finish the remaining brown bittersweet liquid from my favorite _'Potterhead'_ mug. What? I just thought that the design looked really cute.

_**Couldn't sleep. :( —D.**_

Huh. Cryptic enough of a message.

_**Why? –C.**_

I tossed my IPhone carelessly unto my half-heartedly made up bed. Then I proceeded to remove my shirt and my pajamas.

Underwear was simply insignificant when I go to bed. Well, it depends, actually. I'd either wear just boxers or short sleeping shorts, or commando pajamas. What? I was just going to sleep after all.

Afterwards, I stepped into my bathroom. The sink oppositely void of any facial products (aside from a moisturizer and a facial cream) as one would expect from a guy who plays as a rather meticulous teen on TV. I shivered a bit as I stepped into the warm spray of water. Oh my god. I really never appreciated morning showers that much. I mean—it's—it's cold and like _BAM!_

You shiver when you feel the scalding water melting your skin—Okay, not to that point of exaggeration, but you get my point. Suddenly, I remembered the last song I heard from the radio yesterday and began to hum.

Whistling the intro, I swayed my hips and danced like an idiot. Like seriously. Thanks to that _'Single Ladies'_ gig, my hips were now practically dislocated every time I danced.

_'I've got the moves like Jagger'_, I sang loudly, raising my arms and shaking my head along to the imaginary beat. I know that it's five in the morning, but seeing that I live off of caffeine and chocolate and plain sugar—and dammit, it's Maroon 5! How could anyone _NOT_ enjoy the awesomeness of the band that was Maroon 5? Although, their opinions might vary once they hear that it's the chipmunk rendition of the song that was bouncing off the tiled walls of the bathroom.

_'I've got the mooooooves... like Jagger!'_ And then inside my head, the beat of a mash-up song came to me. I began to nod my head along the imaginary beat as I grabbed my shampoo and squirted the liquid unto the palm of my hand. _'If you want to be with me, there's one thing you've got to know: I like my beats fast and my bass down low. My bass down low. My b-b-bass down looooow.'_

Thank god I lived alone. Imagine the media uproar and the internet frenzy this would cause.

Hmmm...But I think I would like to suggest this mash-up to Ryan later on...And not that I'm already plotting about the possible scenes, but I would like Darren to sing the Maroon 5 part, and possibly Heather for the other part. And like, since Blaine's already transferred to McKinley, the New Directions could party in with him! And he could invite the Warblers too.

We both always wanted the Warblers and the New Directions to mingle.

* * *

><p>After finishing my rather entertaining morning shower, I lazily toweled my hair, and secured another towel around my waist. And then, I brushed my teeth, although there weren't that much to brush, considering how minutely miniscule my munching machines were. Really. Cory was teasing me the other day, saying how long I took chewing a—a—a...what do you call that? Damn it. Yes! A piece of Salisbury steak. I replied that it took about the same time for him to bend down to tie his shoelaces, considering that he was freakishly tall.<p>

Stepping into my walk-in closet, I weighed the various options of clothing in my mind. Chuckling, I realized that I was actually thinking along the lines of _'I wonder how would Kurt dress in a situation like this?'_ or _'Would Kurt Hummel approve of this?' _and even _'Should I call my stylist?'_ Then I remembered that it was just a reading session. A bit of a warm up so we, actors and actresses, would know what we're up against the next time we enter the battlefield that we so lovingly refer to as the _'set'_.

It was a simple casual meeting today.

With Ryan Murphy.

And Darren Criss.

Without me realizing it, the panic bubble already exploded inside of me. Suddenly, I felt like I was myself back in high school. The time when I was about to make my first speech in front of the Speech and Debate Club. The time when I figured that I should stand up for myself because let's face it. I had no knight in shining armor in Clovis. Heck, I figured that there were simply no superheroes out there to save a scrawny, pale, high-pitched gay kid like me. And then I backtracked. What was I doing?

Oh my god.

What was wrong with me? Sure, I had graced with the fact that I maybe sorta kind of just a tiny little bit hypothetically somewhat, dare I say it, _'attracted'_ to him. And I already professed that this was a—It—Darren—It was a problem. So what the hell was I doing last night, flirting with him? Why the hell was I fretting what to wear just because I was also seeing Darren that day? Why the hell was I so excited? It's not cool. It's not right. I was a person other teens look up to.

They lean against me, no matter how small my actions for the LGBT community were. And yet here I was, pining over a straight guy like some sort of lovesick schoolgirl that would never, not once in a million light years, reciprocate my feelings. I was a professional actor. And of course, I knew better than to meddle up my personal private affairs with work.

Just like that, my good mood vanished.

As they say, _'realizations hit hard.'_

Well damn. This hit like a, excuse me for the language, bitch.

I should stay focused. It would look really bad if my feelings were somewhat noticed by other people. And not to mention the fans...They would hate me. I mean, sure. I'm aware of the _'ships'_ out there in the fandom of Glee. Heck, I'm even aware of the names. It's really amusing once you get over the fact that strangers out there are writing their deepest and darkest fantasies about you. Okay, there was Puckleberry (Puck and Rachel), Finchel (Finn and Rachel), and Tike (Tina and Mike), and Quam/Fabevans (Quinn and Sam), and Brittana (Brittany and Santana), and Samcedes (Sam and Mercedes) and...Klaine, of course, Kurt and Blaine. But I noticed that there were...What did they call those again? Ah, yes. RPF, I think, Role Playing Fiction?

There was...Well, most of the ones I did find (by accident), were...about me. There's Monfer (Cory and me), and dare I say it, CrissColfer (Darren and me). Strangely...I was being paired with random members of the cast. But oh, there was also Quinn and Rachel, and even Sam and Blaine! And the funniest ship name I found was Finn and Puck's...I snorted. Okay, their name's something you shouldn't mention often, it would be rude.

Where was I? Oh right. Aside from the strangest fiction fans write about out there, and the immensely thoughtful gifts and fan mail I receive every day, well, let's just say I couldn't really please everybody. And I know that. The first time I know of this was when I Google-ed myself sometime the early release of Glee. And let me tell you, the comments I read? They were awful. I knew that the audience was harsh and criticizing, but it was downright _terrible_. They were really _brutal _and _mean_ about it. And it hurt me so much that I never bothered to search myself on the net ever again. Technology could really be great and all, but other times, it just speeds up the mess process.

I'm straying from the main point again. Anyways, as I was saying, I knew that I couldn't please everybody out there. There were a lot of parents and homophobes concerned about that _'gay' _character on the show, especially now that he has a relationship with another _'gay' _character. It's a bit saddening that the world is still conventional and that prejudice still exists. But it's okay, for me. It's notas if I hoped that once GLEE became famous then everything would be all butterflies and rainbows. I learned that the whole world is a lotlike my high school, Clovis East High, only it was wider, and the people were meaner.

And if people would find about me being in a relationship, or at the very least, panting after one of his colleagues just because they play as the sickening sappy couple onscreen, _AND_ said colleague was straight...Let's just say that people would probably come after me with pitchforks and torches. It was already a trying moment for them to watch a queer kid on television.

Imagine the disgust and the rage they would feel if they learned that I was practically _'infecting'_ a straight guy with my persistent homosexuality.

Oh dear god, I could practically imagine the headlines...

I excelled in the arts: singing, dancing, acting, writing—you name it. The other areas wherein I'm not good at, such as sports, and maybe socializing (at times), I could probably learn how to improve on them. But if there was one thing I sucked at...

...Then it would probably be dealing with my _emotions._

That's right.

Emotions. Not love or romance or self-denial.

I suck at emotions. I usually keep them bottled up. And usually, it eats me away, that or someone was bound to notice or I end up exploding.

The latter usually happens. Thus, my weird quirks of building mini pyramids out of diet coke cans or squishing Chewbacca's face were my means of controlling my..._emotional state._

Wow. Look at how profound and in-depth self-realization concerning clothes got me.

Sighing, I grabbed a wifebeater (always as an undershirt!), then a somewhat loose button down polo, the blue—cerulean blue one, the one Amber picked for me when we shopped together months ago. Then I grabbed my belt, and my jeans (normal ones, thank you. God knows that the ones I wore during the show were tight enough to cut the blood circulation flowing in my thighs).

After sliding into my jeans and buckling my belt, I wore my undershirt first and then moved on to buttoning my polo, leaving the first three buttons unbuttoned. Deciding that I looked humanly decent enough, I moved to my vanity mirror and before I could fix my hair, my phone vibrated from where it lay...Which was the bed.

There were 2 unread messages.

The first one was from Amber. I smiled as I read her message.

_**Boo, wanna get some coffee? ;)**_

I sighed, quickly typing in a reply.

_**Sorry, can't babe. Got a rehearsal at 10. Ryan at 7. And Darren at 12. –C.**_

Biting my lip, I contemplated for a moment if I should meet with her or not. Amber Riley, the talented girl who plays as Mercedes in the show, grew to be one of my real life best friends. She's sweet, and funny, and sassy, and talkative—when she wants to, which was quite often. And analyzing my crappy mood that morning, I figured I needed a distraction.

_**Meet me at the cafe later. I'll text you when we're done.—C.**_

I typed it in quickly. Then I moved on to the next message. Oh, it was from Darren, the man who was slowly ruining my sanity. Damn, talk about slow response.

_**It's a secret. ;) I'll tell u l8ter. Maybe. :P —D.**_

Huh. And they call me the _'dramatic'_ one.

* * *

><p>"Chris! You look great!" Ryan warmly greeted me as he took a few long strides to meet me halfway, and then full on out embraced me. I returned the affectionate embrace to the best I could, since I was hugging my Fairy Godfather.<p>

"Ryan! You too! Did you get a new haircut?" I grinned cheekily at him.

"Ha-ha. Chris. Ha-ha." He rolled his eyes at me as we both walked towards the improvised cafeteria in one tiny section of the whole studio. It was kind of nice there. It was a great place to find food when thousands of people are waiting for you to come out from the set to walk a few blocks down the road for the—the cool diner joint there. "I see you haven't hit puberty yet."

I gasped at his remark as I watched Ryan walk away, laughing his ass off. "Touché", I muttered as I followed him.

We settled down at one of the benches as one of the other staff—oh wait, it was Sandy! She's the one who made the _'Grilled Cheesus'_, for your information. I beamed at her as she grinned at me. "Sandy, sweetie, could you kindly get me some sandwich? And possibly some milk and cookies for Chris here? And while you're at it, come join us for breakfast, honey."

"I'll just have coffee, Sandy. Thanks", I grumbled as I shot the producer a playful glare. Sandy walked away, shaking her head at the obvious craziness that was me and Ryan. He turned to me with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"So! Chris! Mr. Big-Shot", he smiled, "how are you? How have you been holding up? I mean, look at you!" He gestured to all of me with his hands and—oh my god, was—was he going to cry? "You won a Golden Globe. You just finished filming a movie that you wrote. You're writing for Disney. You're writing a book. You're fighting for the LGTB community. And I—I mean, you're so young."

And this is one of the reasons why I love Ryan Murphy so much. He—wait, oh god! I didn't mean that I love Ryan in that way. Or that I love Ryan because admittedly, okay, I'm kind of spoiled when it comes to him. Or that he praises me far too much. No, no, and no. Actually, it's because he somehow sees me for who I am. Kind of like, he—he takes in all of my scars and flaws too. Because contrary to popular belief, I'm actually kind of a pain in the ass. And I'm not ashamed to hide something like that. Seemingly, Ryan thought so too. He takes in my scars—the horrible memories, specifically my high school years. And despite the fact that they steal ideas from us, he takes my experiences, add it to the storyline, and shows the whole world that the things I've been through...They're not those cliché teenage problems.

They were real. They happen in life.

And maybe, in that way, some parents would bother to ask their children, some teachers would take notice of these things, and some friends would bother to stand up for other people.

Because you know, people may have eyes to see with, but they don't certainly use their brains to think along with or their mouth to talk with. There are a lot of teenagers who are..._misguided._ Because they think that they're alone. And what's worse is that the people with authority, people who the younger generation look up to or lean against for support, parents and teachers and whatnot, they're the very first ones to judge and categorize teens in accordance to how to handle them.

"Oh Ryan, come on", I waved my hand dismissively. "You sound like my mother."

"Well, I am your Fairy Godfather." We both chuckled at that. As if on cue, Sandy reappeared with our breakfast. "You won't be joining us?" I asked her. She turned back and shook her head. "I'm already bloated just by looking at you, honey. My eyes are _feasting_." With a wink, she skipped back to the other waiting staff members, who were currently laughing their heads off at my absurdly flushed face.

Ryan took a bite of his sandwich. "You still haven't answered my question, Chris."

I rolled my eyes. "Please, Ryan. I—you—those are _nothing_! It feels like my hobby, which is writing, and my passion, which is acting were rolled into one! So, it's all jolly and great." Sipping my coffee, I continued. "You should probably be surprised when you find out that I'm actually a superhero with a secret identity and I just saved the world from a super villain's catastrophic evil...you—you know evil master— master plan."

"I wouldn't be surprised at all, really."

"You wouldn't?"

"And I bet Cory would probably be your sidekick."

"No, no. Cory's too much of a Giant to be my sidekick. I mean at one point he might've carried me if I was too tired or wounded or something."

He thought hard about whom to pair me up with. "You know, I bet Darren would be the perfect sidekick for you."

"What because he's...you know..._'Vertically challenged'_ and he's got enough energy to light up a city?"

Ryan snorted. "No. I mean, both of you are workaholics. I heard that he's writing songs for the College-produced play they did that's it's on its third produce now. Other than that he's filming _'Imogene'_ and GLEE, and not to mention the other advertisements and magazines that he's working with."

Ignoring the fanboy side of me, I focused on the fact that he said that Darren and I a lot compatible. "So, you're saying that Darren would be the perfect sidekick?"

He nodded. And then seconds later, he frowned. Damn, he noticed the manic gleam of my eyes.

"I got it! Kurt and Blaine isn't really, you know, a couple. They're actually partners-in-crime, with Kurt as the Superhero and Blaine as the Sidekick and they—they team up to protect Ohio from...From...uuh...Radioactive...Turtles? And Zombies and Vampires lurking as humans! That and Sue would be the Mastermind of all things evil."

"And what would they call themselves?"

"I think", I tilted my head in a curious manner, "Kurt would call himself...I don't know", I shrugged, "_'Porcelain' _maybe? Or _'Kickass_?' Oh wait, scratch the last one, it's already taken. And Blaine would be _'Mr. Dapper'_ because he's usually polite and pressed down neatly and his gel covered with hair—oh wait, the other way around...His hair full of gel. And their costumes would be awesome! But Kurt would not have a mask or anything that might destroy his hair or his face. You know how he is, so instead, he gets those...eye masks? And he has no cape at all, because capes are absolutely tacky. He's wearing leather, not spandex, because spandex leaves marks. Leather and boots, I think, and something of Alexander McQueen's! Like a scarf or something, because you know how Kurt is."

"Uh-huh."

"And Blaine would probably be in full-superhero costume, as if he's stepped out to go trick-or-treating or something. His costume would be similar to Robin's. Although the colors would be different, and instead of an _"R"_ embedded on the top it would be a _"D"_ for _'Dapper._' And of course, Mr. Dapper wouldn't be himself without his bow tie and his pink sunglasses."

"The one Darren always carries with him around? The very same thing when we filmed the _'Gap Attack'_?"

I nodded. Oh! This would be great! The viewers wouldn't know what hit them! Imagine! The very first TV show wherein almost all genres are present: Action, Romance, Comedy, Sci-fi, Suspense, Horror, Drama...And all at the same time it's a musical!

"So you're saying is that you want to turn GLEE into Twilight, The Vampire Diaries, Buffy, 28 weeks later, and Heroes all rolled into one?"

"Ratings will _skyrocket_!"

"Yeah...no", Ryan laughed. "Seriously, Chris?"

I pouted. "What? The element of surprise—it always ensures victory on the battlefield."

"Just stick to writing children's books, sweetie", he patted my arm comfortingly.

* * *

><p>"Ryan, ugh, sorry I'm late! Traffic was horrible!" A pleasing, deep, yet cheerful voice filled my ears. I whipped my head too fast and gave myself a stiff neck or a neck cramp of some sort. I winced as I rubbed my neck.<p>

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a gelled hair guy—Darren, of course. He gave Ryan a one-armed hug and patted his back before they both pulled away at the same time and launched into the proper talk of '_how are you;_ and so on and so forth. Gah! Darren Criss was there. The same room. As me. Oh wait, we were work colleagues. Him. My straight work partner. Colleagues. Friends. That's all we're ever going to be.

I could do this. I could do this.

"Hey Chris!" I heard my name being called. Automatically, I smiled at him. But damn...I resisted the urge to cover my eyes because he truly and really looked..._Handsome_.

He was wearing a black V-neck cotton shirt, some skinny jeans, and his sneakers. Huh. Somehow, it was evident that he directly came from an event or a concert.

"Hey Darren!" I stood up and we gave each other a hug. After a few minutes, I willed myself to separate from him. But of course I waited at the right moment that he should let go first. Because—maybe he'd get the wrong idea that I must've hated him or something. And it wasn't only a few more minutes later that we separated for air. I shivered a bit. He smelled like rain, yet had that manly scent on him. Not that I don't smell the same way! What I meant was...Huh. Figured I need to ask what his perfume was, I need to stop smelling so sweet all the time. Last time, it was lavender, I got chased by insects.

This week, Vanilla, I got chased by insects AND cats.

So...Yeah.

"You look amazing!" I sincerely remarked. He did really. Not because I had this schoolboy crush on him. Not because he totally looked fresh and everything despite that he was overloaded with more work. Not that because I could see his curls rebelling from the gel he put on. Not because I got to hug him. But honestly, he really looked great.

Darren grinned. "Aww shucks. You look adorable yourself, Chris. It's the first time I saw you with that pair of glasses."

I flushed. That moment, I brought with me my pair of frameless, oval reading glasses.

"Uuh...Thanks."

"Okay, now that everybody's here, let's get to it", Ryan clapped his hands as he sat down on one of the chairs in the meeting room. "Let's go over the script one more time while we wait for Brad and Ian to get here."

We both sat there, scripts at hand, reading scene by scene. Suddenly, Darren leaned in a bit closer to me.

"Lunch is still a go, right?"

Oh dear god, help me. Darren Criss might be every girl's dreamboat, and he actually was mine also at the moment. But for my sake and everyone else's, please help me forget about these feelings I have for him. It sucks to be in love. Everything else seemed complicated. And I don't want to ruin my life now. No, not after my parents sacrificed a lot for me. No, after I worked my ass off just to reach where I am today. No, not until after I have proven those people who didn't believe in me wrong. That I was right, and they were so badly wrong. So please, please, please.

Please, help me fall _out_ of love with him.

"Of course", I smiled awkwardly.

Great, just great.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This chapter **_**sucked**_**. It was messy and stuff. And I half-assedly finished this last night, at around 1:30 or so. So, please excuse the incoherent babblings. Well, this was **_**supposed**_** to be a filler of some sort. The next chapter's where the real story begins. XD**

**And sorry if the paragraphs are all sort of run-ins together! I just figured that Chris is a real talker when other people are around, well, he **_**did**_** come from a Speech and Debate Club, not to mention he **_**writes**_** and he **_**acts**_**. So there you have it! :D**

**Do review. Tell me what you think. :/**


	3. Master your selfcontrol

**A/N: Long chapter. Ugh. The cookies in my browser had me unable to log-in. Creys.**

* * *

><p>When you sense danger, your instinct would most likely tell you to run AWAY from it.<p>

But why was it that I was currently seated across the most dangerous person I know, about to have lunch at some quaint cozy Italian restaurant?

Who was this impending danger?

Darren Criss, of course.

The attraction was suffocating—it was as if I was a moth driven towards the pretty flame.

"So uuh...I'll just be having some good old spaghetti and meatballs."

"Very good sir", the waiter grinned at him. Huh. Most likely he wasn't aware of who he was taking orders from at that moment. That's good news actually. "Drinks?"

"Pepsi, thanks."

He scribbled it quickly and then turned towards me. "And you, sir?"

"The same", I gave him a small smile as I watched his face turn into a surprised one when he heard my voice. It's nothing new, actually. It's what I was going to live with probably with the rest of my life! I mean my parents and I already asked the doctors if there was any chance at all...And well...Figuring that I'm already 21, let's just say, acceptance was the first key.

But imagining me all wrinkled and white paired with this high-pitched voice...

Wasn't it a bit creepy?

"Drinks?"

"Diet Coke, please", I shot Darren a playful glare as he snickered. "Anything else at the moment? Dessert for later?" The waiter politely asked as he paused for a moment. Darren and I shook our heads. "It'll be served in about 10 minutes", he gave us a little bow and then collected the menus and then walked off. I watched the waiter and saw that as soon as he came to the counter, he was quickly ambushed by two squealing, hyperventilating waitresses, and then the cashier joined in, and then later the chef peeked through the kitchen window.

The manager finally walked into the scene, wondering what the fuss was all about.

The girl, the one who grabbed the waiter by his vest, explained in hushed yet urgent tones. Apparently, she did it so as not to stir up a commotion wherein they would probably guess that all we ever wanted was our lunch. And my diet coke. I mean, I could legally drink and all (Hooray!) but my addiction for diet coke hasn't vanished.

I think that was what people meant about having your first love and everything.

Gazing at us every other minute, the manager nodded while the girl continued her lengthy explanation (how it got that long, I honestly had no clue). And then when she was done, the manager gently reprimanded all the staff involved and sternly warned them about something. Hey, I never was a good eavesdropper. But judging from the hand gestures and the way the girl's head hung low, not to mention the totally horrifying look of that manager—well, anybody could probably guess, right?

"That was amusing", Darren grinned as he caught me watching the entire scene from our table. "I think I would never get used to this."

"I know what you mean", I nodded. "I mean, I still get star struck when we go to those—those red carpet events. And oh my god, when I met Lady Gaga—I—It—I didn't know what to do!" I fanned myself as he chuckled. "Seriously! I bowed like an idiot", he laughed harder, "and then I kind of—she was amazing—I didn't remember what happened after that! It was embarrassing!"

Darren shook his head, clutching his sides because he was laughing too much. It was really nice, hearing Darren's laugh. It's the type of laugh that even though you had a bad day, and you hear his laugh, even though you're not in the mood to laugh, you'll probably end up grinning or giggling or smiling along with him—It's infectious.

"I saw a picture of you with Katy Perry, the one with the Prom Queen and Prom King Sashes?" He threw a pointed look at me as he sipped his water.

I shrugged. "Yeah, well", Darren was grinning again, "I saw you singing with Ms. Katy Perry."

"Wait, you watched that?" Oh, shit. I mean, crap. Damn. Think, Chris, think!

"Youtube. Uuh...Telly sent me a link and said that _'Blaine' _was living his teenage dream."

A flash of realization hit him. "Oh", he drawled out, and then he shrugged. "Seriously tho, I'm rocking the same boat as you with Lady Gaga. I was trying so hard not to stumble or fumble or s-stutter over the lyrics. It was both a nightmare and a dream come true for me." He paused. "Well, mostly a dream come true."

I internally squealed the fact that he did stutter over the word itself. It was just like in one of his songs. Was he doing it on purpose or did it grow into a habit for him? Anyway, it was adorable.

A comfortable silence drifted between us. I guess we were still reminiscing over the past few months, the past few years, and—and—everything was just overwhelming. It was as if you were dreaming, and you never wanted to wake up.

God knows what sort of thing would I do if I suddenly woke up and discovered that I was asleep while I took inventory in that laundry shop I used to work from when I was still in California. I shivered. But seriously, although there were days when all I wanted to do was curl up in bed, or spoil my little sister, I couldn't ignore the fact that I feel so blessed. Like God had it all mapped out and laid down for us.

"So! Darren", I broke the silence, "how's that movie you were filming? How's New York? It's such a shame that you didn't come with us when we filmed the last episode last season, but hey, you got there all on your own—and with your own movie! Who'd da thunk, huh?" I grinned as I said it with my 'gangsta' accent.

He flashed that charming yet modest grin of his. "Geeze Chris, awww shucks", he chuckled sheepishly. "The filming's going smoothly. There were no reported monkeys in hovercrafts flying into the scene and abducting my co-stars." We both laughed at that. He really wasn't going to let that go, huh?

"Ha-ha, Darr", I rolled my eyes. "It was your fault anyway. You're the one who planted the idea in my head."

And before he could come up with a smartass comment, our food arrived. The delicious smell if old-fashioned Spaghetti and meatballs invaded almost all of my senses. I hastily wiped my chin, a bit afraid if Darren would find me salivating—okay, no drool. Unfortunately, Darren caught sight of my little moment. He chuckled, discreetly hiding it in an obvious fake-cough. Embarrassment flooded my cheeks. I glared at him.

After the waiter was done setting our food and the proper utensils upon the table, he appeared a bit reluctant to leave. "So...Do you need anything else?"

"No, we're good", I beamed at him, "thank you."

I thought that was enough for him to...go and attend to the other customers (even though there weren't that much), but then the poor guy glanced back and forth to our table and then to the counter as if he was weighing the pros and cons of something.

Darren and I shared a quick bewildered look. "You okay, man?" Darren asked in a truly concerned way.

The waiter, with a defeated sigh, rubbed his face tiredly. "Okay. Oh my god, I'm so sorry about this but if it's not too much trouble, could I have both of your autographs? I'm really sorry about this. It's just—those girls! You'd think they were wild beasts or something. They nearly killed me when they saw me getting your orders! Now, honestly, I don't even know who the both of you are, but I think you're both famous, and that you're on TV...So...Yeah", he ranted nervously, producing his pen and the notebook he used to jot down orders.

Oh, oh.

To choose between preserving his life and doing something that might be considered as 'stalker'-ish or refusing the command and end up being tortured to death by some fan girls' wrath...That was difficult.

"Look, guys. I'm really sorry about this", he stammered, flustered. "I'll just go tell them that I couldn't, I tried but I backed off the last minute, because here you are, about to have lunch, and I'm here awkwardly distracting you from your Italian spaghetti. I'm really sorry about this. I know that you want to-okay, so yes...I'll—I'll just go and leave now."

"Wait", Darren called, "Of course we'd you know—sign."

A small smile graced my lips. Sure, Darren could be an attention whore most of the time. But I just love the fact that he didn't let his fame get into his head. That he still gets star struck when he sees celebrities. That people asking for his autographs or having his photograph taken or even when fans begin to hyperventilate when he's there don't feed his ego. I like down-to-earth guys. They're pretty much rare these times. Don't—don't get me wrong. It's not only Darren who's the—the modest guy around here. Mark, Chord, Cory, Kevin, Harry—not just the GLEE Cast. There were a lot of honest guys out there. It was just hard to fathom if they were sincere-honest or honest-because-of-a-reason.

So, we did just that. We signed, attaching a small note to the girls to kindly stop _'terrorizing' _Andrew. Andrew. Yes, that was the waiter's name.

After being thanked for at least a gazillion times, we were finally left alone. I twirled my fork unto the spaghetti and then pressed it slightly against my lips. Oh good, they weren't cold yet. And then I took a bite. Moaning, I closed my eyes to relish the whole spaghetti sauce/pasta/meatballs combo. And then I heard someone laugh. "You're too adorable", Darren shook his head.

I shrugged. "What? It's delicious."

"You'd think you haven't had a good old spaghetti and meatball meal for a long time now."

I bit my lip and resumed eating. But the damage was done. There was this hanging accusation in the air. And my silence just affirmed it all the more. Darren gaped at me. I rolled my eyes.

"You know, you need to put food inside your mouth after opening it, and then you close your mouth and start to chew. That's the way human beings eat. If you sit there and leave it open like that, flies might start to live there."

"Chris! I just—you—", at one point he just scoffed (because he couldn't think of what to say), "I can't believe you! You do know that a person normally eats spaghetti and meatballs on an average basis of three to four times per month?"

"Uh-huh", I took another bite, "and where did you get your statistics again?"

He ignored me. "Here, you should eat some more." And then he did the unexpected, he scooped up some spaghetti and then nudged his fork against my lips. I stared at it in wonder.

"You eat this thing", he spoke to me slowly, as if talking to a child. "You open your mouth and then you—there. See? Now was that so hard?"

Seriously, what was he doing? Feeding me in public—not that—not that I had any problem with that. It was actually a sweet gesture for me. But it never hurt to be sure. I glanced around, and I let out a sigh of relief when I saw that the place was clear of nosy paparazzi who were doing their job to get some juicy gossip from well-known people. "Easy, Chris. It's not like spoon-feeding you is going to end up on the front page of a cover tomorrow morning", he reassured me, casually eating his meal.

Embarrassed, I felt my cheeks flush pink. "Oh—no, no. It's—It's not that I was...you know. Just, just making sure", I laughed awkwardly. "It might be rumored that Chris Colfer wouldn't know how to eat an Italian meal on his own. And that he had his—his co-star Darren Criss teach him."

Darren snorted. "Yes, and the press would have a field day because of that."

After that particular awkward bit, we settled down to eating our meal. Small talks passed in between. The usual _'how's life?'_ and so on and so forth. It was really nice, though. It reminded me of the first dinner I had with him. That time I nearly wet my pants because Darren Criss, the guy who played Harry freakin' Potter in A Very Potter Musical casted as Kurt Hummel's potential love interest on Season 2. Look at how time flies, huh? Who knew that we would end up as close as we were now? Then again, who ever knew that I would end up falling for him...In unfortunately, an _un_-platonic kind of way?

"So, speaking of which", I wiped my lips cordially with a napkin. "Where's my present?" I grinned at him.

There was a look of pure bewilderment on his part, but after a few minutes he got it. "Oh, oh! That one!"

I pretended to glance past his shoulders. "Hmm", I commented thoughtfully, "I don't see the Statue of Liberty anywhere, Darren. Did you somehow use a shrinking ray to shrink it to a pocket sized statue which I could then conveniently use a keychain accessory?"

"Close", he played along with me, "but I got something better than that for you."

"You got me a Nimbus 2001?"

He snorted. "I went to New York, Chris, not London." But then, having finished our meals at that time, he got his bag and rummaged around it as he produced a small plastic bag. It was clear that he got it from a comic convention. "Here, I knew you would like it."

"Thanks", I grinned gratefully as I got the treat. I reached inside and squealed. It was a Darth Vader stuffed toy. It was a-absolutely adorable. Squealing, I stood up from my seat and hugged his neck. He returned it with a one-armed hug, but nevertheless he was ecstatic as he watched me _'bounce' _in my chair with utmost childish happiness. "Oh! Darren! Thank you thank you", my voice went octaves higher and breathy. I was too happy to notice anyway. "It's absolutely adorable! Well, apart from you indirectly implying that I'm still a kid, seeing that you brought me Dark—Darth—Darth Vader but then again I'm an absolute geek of Star Wars so major points to you and oh my god, even though I'm already twenty one I would sleep with him every night then! And Chewbacca gets a new friend!"

"Yeah, I saw it at one of those comic cons and thought that you would like it."

"Like it? I love it!"I hugged Darth Vader and cooed at it. "Seriously, thanks man."

And then Darren took out his phone and aimed it at me. "Pose Chris. I want to post it later and let everybody else see how absolutely adorable you are when you're excited over a stuffed toy. That and you're a Star Wars fanatic."

I felt myself blush again. "That's the fifth time you told me that I was adorable today, Darren", he raised a brow at me, "not that I've been counting or anything. You told me first when we had that meeting, twice on our way here, and then when I took a bite of my food, and the last one just now." Okay, arrogant bastard's grinning right now. I tried to play it cool. "Not that I was...you—you know, noticing it or anything", I finished pathetically with a shrug.

"Let me take a picture of you and I'll let that slide." I scoffed. Was he threatening me?

"Well, it's not my fault that I was born adorable", I stuck my tongue out playfully at him.

"Come on, Chris."

"Only if you're in it too."

"Fine." He dragged his chair all the way next to mine and then switched the camera setting to the second one. "Cheese!" He said as we made a funny pose: I was cross eyed and I was sticking my tongue out to the side of my lips, Darren made a surprised face: eyes big and mouth gaping open. Darth Vader was resting just below my chin, so he was included as well. We laughed as we took a couple more shots, each funny, and some adorable. In short, we looked like idiots. But then again, compared to Mark's twitter photo with him imitating Amber's funny face, ours would still be decent by miles.

Darren's grin was infectious. We were going back through our shots and laughing at ourselves. "I feel like eating ice cream today. Want to grab some? I know this ice cream parlor down the street. When I invite Lauren or Joel or other Starkids when they're in the city, we usually go there for ice cream. It's really cool. It's got checkered tiles and even a juke box! It's a complete replica of those from Grease. The ones from the 50s."

I nearly squealed in delight again when I heard those names. I'm pretty sure that I was going to embarrass myself if I ever meet one of them. Especially when I'm faced with the one who played as Draco Malfoy. That woman was so talented. And hilarious. And witty. And oh my god, if I was straight, I'm going for her. Like, pronto. And maybe I could play Rumbleroar...I don't know why, but he's awesome.

And my voice probably could reach that low, grumbly, husky range.

"So, what about it?" Darren prompted me out of my reverie as he signaled for the waiter. It was Andrew again, and this time, he was grinning smugly.

"How it did it go?" I asked with utmost interest as I rested my chin unto my palm. Andrew smiled at me and then glanced at the girl—the one with the blonde hair—before turning back to us. "I got myself a date!" he grinned. "Seriously, I don't get it why girls go crazy at the two of you, no offense or anything", Darren waved it off, "but Samantha just agreed to go out with me!"

Darren and I both shared this knowing-grin. "That's great dude!" Darren congratulated him. I nodded along and absentmindedly played with Darth Vader, who was currently snuggled in my lap. "So, you guys want desserts? It's on the house", Andrew beamed as he passed Darren the bill absentmindedly. That moment I opened my mouth to protest, because seriously, I should be the one paying. It's not like he had to be the man in our date—

Wait, was this a...No, stop it Chris. It was only_ lunch_. Lunch with a _friend._

What was I doing? The souvenir was something that a friend could and would get for another friend. This lunch was kind of part of work-we needed to be used to each other's presence again, after the long break. What was I doing expecting more? What was I doing when I felt my heart almost burst out of happiness because he got me a damned toy? Didn't my past teach me enough when it came to the matters of the heart?

This...This was wrong...

I needed Amber. Diana. Lea. Actually, anybody else who wasn't Darren.

I needed them now. Stat.

"I'm paying. Ah—no, Chris. I asked you out for lunch, so I should be the one paying", he threw me a pointed glance as he slipped some bills and then some extra ones, for sure, into the notebook thingy. "So! Join me for ice cream? Come on! There are some fat free ones, so when Ryan forces you to those skin-tight jeans, I'm sure you would still be able to breathe."

I bit my lip. "I'd love to Darren. But I have to meet up with Amber for coffee a bit later on. And I know for sure that ice cream and coffee do not mix. Trust me. Cory proved that to me. It was not a...pretty incident. Lea was so mad." I winced at the memory.

"Okay, now you have got to tell me that story."

"Maybe next time", I bit the side of my cheek. Seriously, my jaw actually hurts from smiling too much. And don't even get me started on my inconsistent heartbeats. But one thing's for certain, the roller coaster of emotions was finally taking a toll on me. We exited the restaurant, well, we saw Andrew talking to another blonde that must be Samantha. We both gave him a thumbs-up. And then he waved at us a little and that was the last thing I saw before we stepped outside.

I placed my sunglasses on, and Darren did the same thing—he placed his trademark pink sunglasses on.

Snorting, I shook my head at his adorable quirk. "What?" He tilted his head curiously at me.

"It's amusing to see that you carry that everywhere you go."

"Like you don't carry that hideous backpack wherever you go."

I scoffed. "Excuse me? Chewbacca's more than a backpack. He's my friend."

"Yes, and I'm pretty sure he answers back at you when you're in a sugar rush high of diet cokes."

I had no answer to that. And Darren knew it as well. Damn him. "Well..." I struggled for a witty comeback, "...At least I have Darth Vader now!"

Darren snorted. "Yet another lifeless manmade product. Seriously Chris, I ought to get you a dog or a cat or better yet, a goldfish of some sort."

"I had a pet hamster once. It only lasted a few days. A week, I think."

"You're horrible", he laughed. The kind of laugh wherein all his pearly white teeth were showing. It was really one of my most favorite sights in the world. And the sound of his laugh...Do you think it would be weird if I recorded it and then used it as some sort of a message tone? No? No? Yeah, I figured. It would probably border on obsession. And trust me. I have the complete books of Harry Potter. I have watched all his movies. I have lots of merchandise of it: a Slytherin scarf that I had gotten online, a Gryffindor beanie, a Ravenclaw pin, a Hufflepuff notebook, a bag with the letters 'HP' on it, a shirt, some boxers (dare I admit the _scandal!_), a mug, and as of now, I've been trying my luck to get into Pottermore. So really, being the object of my affection was the same thing as being the receiving end of a love potion.

Not that I was a big assed Harry Potter fanatic or anything.

"What?" I played off my innocent expression. "What do you expect? I was around a fifth grader then."

"The next time I leave for New York, I am buying you another plush toy, and a tea set. So you could have a tea party at your trailer. And you should invite me, Colfer."

* * *

><p>After the seemingly <em>not-a-date-lunch-as-friends-only<em> event, I checked into a local bookstore nearby. There were fairly a lot of people in there. Mostly teenage girls having gotten out from school. And college students in between breaks. Most of them were whispering and talking and some were reacting strongly about my presence inside the place. But none of them were approaching me just yet. Oh dear god, I think I made the wrong move. It wouldn't be the same...incident that happened with Chord alone in that music shop, right? The one when a small riot broke out because of the fan girls and...I checked for my phone and had my manager on speed dial, just in case.

I picked up a book with a rather attention-catching cover. It looked like it belonged to some dark gothic fiction, what with the gloomy castle and all. _'The Ninth Circle'_—that was the title. I sorted through my memory bank with any reference to the title. Dante's Circle had only seven rings right? To represent the seven major sins. And then there was an extra two, for betrayals and finally Satan himself. Or that could probably be just me pretending to be smart. Flipping through the pages and scanning a few lines, I figured that this might be pretty interesting. So with a satisfied smile, I got it from the shelf, and along with Gregory Maguire's _'Wicked' _(One of the books that I was so set on finding by all means and through all the ends of the earth),I decided that these were enough for me to help cure my worsening insomnia at night.

Proceeding to wait in line, which consisted of just me and a tall guy in front of me, I checked my phone for any notifications or so. There was one. It was from Darren. Just the usual _'thanks for the meal. Looking 4ward 2 work wid u soon!'_ I snorted. Clearly, he was typing in text speak to mess with me. Not that I was all anal retentive about grammar and stuff. When I finally thought of a decent (and civilized) reply, I suddenly felt a light tap on my shoulder.

"Are...Are you Chris Colfer?" Two teenagers asked me. The one who spoke had strawberry blonde hair, and the other one had brunette ringlets cascading her freckled face. I thought they were adorable. I smiled, quickly slipping to my _other_ version.

"I think so. I mean, I was born with that name", I joked. They giggled. Oh my god. If ever I have been kicked out from GLEE, or when I graduate from it, I ought to be one of those stand-up comedians in those bars.

The brunette one blushed. "Could we like...get an autograph?"

"Oh. _Oh_. Sure, sure, no problem."

"We really love Glee. Especially Klaine and Brittana. We hope that they'd end up all together and happy."

_Klaine? Brittana?_ "Well, I hope so too", I answered, not really sure what to answer them with. "Thanks so much Chris! Have a nice day!" the blonde waved, looking as if she was on the verge of hyperventilating. The brunette was breathing deeply when they left. Then, a very vague memory of my audition for GLEE replayed in my mind. And _then_, the part wherein I was told that I got in and my reaction to what Ryan Murphy said...Oh my god, that was _definitely_ one of the most embarrassing things I have ever been through.

After paying for the books, more people came up to me. Just the casual asking about GLEE, commenting, thanking me (I have no idea why), asking for my autograph and/or a photograph with me from a small swarm of fans happened. It was something I could handle, so it was no biggie. But I learned from experiences like these that people were _bound_ to know where you are...And I _so_ did not want this little trip to the bookshop to be similar to what happened to Chord. My pants buzzed—well I mean, my _phone_ inside the pocket of my pants buzzed. "Excuse me", I politely said to the crowd. It was from Amber.

_ are you? _

I typed in a quick reply. _I'm by the bookshop. Fans. Meet me by the cafe. xoxo_

"I'm sorry guys. I really need to go", I chuckled at the disappointed sounds they were making. It was really fun interacting with them. Despite the fact that sometimes, it was awkward to entertain fans when you're in the grocery stuck choosing your deodorant and other personal hygiene products. But they were really lovely people. And I'm really honored to have their support and whatnot. "Thank you for these though", I gestured at some of the little care packages they gave me. And a Ravenclaw scarf. It was difficult for me to restraint myself from jumping up and down like a lunatic when the teenage girl handed it shyly.

_Should I call for your manager? Are you in trouble?_

"Guys, I'm _really_ sorry. But, uhm, I need to meet with someone right now", I sheepishly apologized again as I fixed all of my things into place. This was one of those strange moments when you wouldn't know if you're offending them in some way by just...leaving. Because believe me when I say that I for one, would know too well the taste of rejection. "Bye now!" I gave them a little wave before I headed out. To my relief, they all gave their little goodbyes and waved at me. So what I'm guessing is, everything is A-OK.

The cafe was really close. It was around three to four blocks down from the bookstore.

_No need. Walking towards you right now. -xoxo_

People were glancing at me. Some were pointing, whispering excitedly, and others were contemplating on whether or not coming towards me. Honestly, this was one of the moments wherein reality hit me full force. I was _recognized_. People knew me. People see me on television. People read about me in magazines. People listen to radio interviews. They search for my biography in the internet. They recognize me from the pictures. They listen to the songs I sing. Finally, after god knows how long, people knew who I _was_.

And this was a big thing for me. _To_ me. Majority of my life, I was mostly ignored because I was weird. People gave me enough funny excuses for doing so. Whether it was because of my freckles on my chubby cheeks back when I was in elementary, or it was because of my _'girly'_ voice that just proceeded to step into a higher pitch as I age, or it was because I sort of _look_ like a girl, or it was because of my sister, who was ill, or it was _finally_ because of the fact that I had turned gay, just like what they wanted. The only time I ever was going to be visible, was when I was walking down the hallway, and out of nowhere they would shout those _horrible_ words at me, would call me names, and after they're done having their fun, I would slip back and become intangible again.

But in a way, I'm thankful to them. Because they taught me how to never _forgive_ and _forget_. They taught me how to learn the basics of life despite the fact that I was still in high school. They taught me how to stand on my toes. Most of all, they taught me to accept and love myself. They showed me that people are out there, other people who loves you and supports you. They taught me how to _hope_ and _endure_ and hold on a bit longer. And through all the hard work I experience, I am the person whom I grew up to be today.

People _recognize_ me.

Not because I was weird.

But because I stood out.

I _stood out_ from the rest.

Not because I was queer.

But they could actually relate to me.

They knew of my unspoken pain. They knew the all too well _'blindness'_ of authority figures in school when some of the students are being bullied. They knew first-hand, how _bad_ it hurt when you were being called names. And most of all, they knew how _awful_ it was to be alone-to try and become strong to get through the day, and to get through those four years of torture ahead of you.

And for once, I am going to use that opportunity to try and make a change. Change _is_ inevitable. But change does not start with others. Change starts with one's self. It's hard enough to change others when you have your own intrapersonal issues to resolve first. So, yes, I would change myself. But alongside that, I want those teens to know that they are not alone. That they have millions of teens with the same case. Myself, included.

But first thing's first.

"Amber." I all but whined upon reaching her inside the cozy, warm coffee joint. Amber was _glowing_. Vacation plus relaxation did her _wonders_. She gave me a huge smile upon seeing my arrival. "We need to talk."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Crapass loooooooong. :/ I do not know how I feel about this chapter. As I've said, I'm keeping it as **_**realistic**_** as possible. So I just kind of think that the whole GLEE cast are the type to buy each other little gifts without so much as a reason behind them. XD That and I'm sure that they hang out a lot often. Next chapter is prolly where the conflict begins. Trying to **_**not**_** fall in love with your unbelievable **_**perfect**_** gorgeous dorky spazzy genuine and kind, not to mention **_**straight**_**, costar is not an easy walk. :P**

**Thanks for the Story Alerts! : Though, I'd appreciate it tad better to send me your thoughts so as to know what input should I chip in next time. :D **

**Now Playing: Le Jazz Hot –GLEE Cast ver. **

**PS: Sooo…We'd all be having blue balls 'til the 8****th**** of November, I reckon? xD It kind of annoys me that everyone in GLEE Club is falling apart when it's their senior year already () Not to mention the whole Puck/Quinn/Beth/Shelby scenario. And, I kind of miss Lauren already. **** She handled Puck perfectly. **


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